Armageddon
by Let's Explode
Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.
1. Naufragate

Title: Armageddon

Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.

Type: Ongoing.

Note(s): Certain things will deviate from the canon chapter 363, but events after chapter 481 will be altered completely.

Warning(s): Just the usual. Language, death, torture, lame battle scenes, suicidal thoughts… yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognized terms or characters.

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><p><strong>The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.<strong>

**KARL MARX, **_**Capital**_

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><p><strong>1<strong>

Perception was reality.

That much was obvious.

If people saw you as a criminal, they would treat you like one. They'd mark you in the Bingo books, and they'd do their damnedest to have you killed or detained. And if people perceived you as some wounded idiot bleeding to death in the middle of nowhere, then they'd drag you to the nearest health centre for healing. Because if you were wounded, you must've been injured by someone evil.

Seriously. They thought two plus two equaled six or something. Konoha nins and Akatsuki were enemies, and still they saved him. It was a wonder they didn't die out quickly for being such bleeding hearts.

But he digressed. If his mental clock was right, he was found over two, maybe three months ago, in the middle of a disaster zone, bleeding and laughing like there was no tomorrow. Well, back then, if those goody-goody leaf-nins hadn't found him, that would've been the case. So why shouldn't he laugh? The pain that erupted throughout his body was near blinding. It was a sore wake-up to reality. He didn't die as a masterpiece. He was going to die slowly, and painfully, and it was just so funny, because it seemed, he never got what he wanted. Ever.

So he continued laughing anyway, like ha-ha, ha-ha-ha, and blood was spilling from his mouth and rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn't feel it. He was in too much trauma, too much shock. Deidara felt more than just numb, and it was funny. So he laughed.

Even if it was sick that he never got to be a masterpiece. Like he wasn't deserving of art. Like he wasn't meant to be art. Like what he did wasn't art at all.

It was an epiphany, that he was wrong, just like how Sasori had been wrong. Deidara was pissed beyond belief, because damn it, he was supposed to go out with a bang. It was supposed to be art. It was going to be his masterpiece. And it failed. Deidara failed. His art… wasn't art. It hurt. It seemed he would always be proven wrong. The reality of it stung.

Then, something just broke in him.

And Deidara saw red. It was the ugly kind of red that filtered through your vision and consumed you, the kind that was like blood, with how it darkened with time. He thought it was rather fitting that he was lying there in his own blood too. He was probably a hideous, but awesome sight. But he wasn't art, and so he laughed. And he laughed, and he laughed.

And then the Konoha-nins showed up.

Deidara couldn't remember what happened next, which was strange, given how extraordinarily clear his epiphany had been. The next moments were blurry. There was a dog smell. There was a lazy, lilting voice. And then— there was chakra. It was weird chakra, like warm, green chakra. It slowly but surely lulled him in a state of calm and he hated it. It had him gurgling in protest. He didn't want comfort. He didn't ask for it.

He just wanted to die already, yeah, so leave him the fuck alone.

He was seeing red, and he was seeing green, and he was seeing hate, hate, hate.

And then, he saw nothing.

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><p>AN: Kishimoto really gets a kick out of killing off the best of characters. When Dei (and pretty much the rest of Akatsuki) died, I was like, "_Nay! Kishy, U cannot do this! No plz!" _in my head, but did he heed my prayers? Nay. U_U I mean, seeing them all zombie-like was kinda awesome, but... you know. They're still dead.

So here's to denial.

Review, if you want to live. :)


	2. Motatorious

Title: Armageddon

Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.

Type: Ongoing.

Note(s): Certain things will deviate from the canon chapter 363, but events after chapter 481 will be altered completely.

Warning(s): Just the usual. Language, death, torture, lame battle scenes, suicidal thoughts, mental disorder, drug abuse... Yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognized terms or characters.

A/N: Thanks for the positive response, guys!

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><p>"<strong>If you're going through hell, keep going." – Winston Churchill.<strong>

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><p><strong>2<strong>

Time was slowly drowning her.

If Sakura were completely honest with herself, she'd say she was barely afloat as it was. Twenty four hours a day was too short. Life had become a race, a need for survival, and it was all such a tiring, mundane process. It was strange to look back on last week and barely recall anything. A more sensible voice in her mind told her this was a bad sign. Sakura ignored it, her jaw set stubbornly.

Train in the morning. Work in the hospital after that. Heal, heal, train, train. Bleed, hurt, and then, heal again. Sasuke had murdered Danzo. Sasuke, with Madara. Sasuke, a monster. And she had the chance to kill him, but didn't. She was weak. And he had nearly killed her because of it. And Naruto had to save her yet again. She was weak, weak, weak.

It seemed that all she was good for was standing in the sidelines. Crying. Doing nothing. Weak.

She refused to accept it.

Sakura had worked her ass off for years. It did _not_ amount to nothing.

She'd show them.

Behind her eyes were a whorl of emotions. There was anger, at almost everyone, at herself. There was hopelessness, each time she'd fallen on her knees in the training grounds, drawing in selfish breaths. There was tiredness, and lately, it seemed to never want to leave her. It was hanging over her shoulders like a dead weight. It was slowing her down, but she couldn't stop to rest because she knew she'd be left behind again.

She hated it.

Sakura never wanted it to happen, ever again. But who was she to force time to slow down, just so she'd catch up? It never listened to her, just like how Naruto never listened, when it mattered most. And just like Naruto, time was speeding on ahead and she was left chasing after it desperately. Nothing she did was ever enough. Naruto was getting stronger, and she was getting tired. So, so tired.

And the worst part was, Naruto had no idea how much his strength tried to weaken her.

She hadn't seen him since he's saved her from Sasuke. Sakura was relieved, but she was also annoyed— she didn't like that it was the first thing he'd remember if he ever thought of her. She wanted to turn back time. She wanted to tell him she was fine. She could handle things by herself. Not that he'd listen well enough. He never liked hearing her voice how she felt— inferior.

And time went on without mercy.

Suddenly, people were dying by the dozens. Suddenly, attacks were more a normality than proper rest and sleep. Suddenly, her days were blurred so fast she didn't dare to blink, for fear that she would miss a single moment. Train, heal, train, heal. Sakura became driven. She didn't dare waste anymore time. She needed to catch up to Naruto. She needed to get stronger. She woke up earlier each day.

She needed to be more useful. So she worked overtime in the hospital. Heal, heal, heal.

Despite her extreme tiredness, she kept her smile. She never complained when she could improve, when she wasn't useless.

Her chances for sleep and rest became rather limited. After a while, she stopped taking breaks altogether. Every day, train, train, and heal the shinobi. The troops were priority. They were the ones in the battle. Every day, save people from being on the brink of death. Remove poisons. Stabilize the injured. Perform surgeries. Heal, heal, heal.

Sakura's hands were so worn from use that they were numb. And they shook, each time she stopped the assuring green flow of her strength, her chakra. She kept her smile. She put each and every shinobi back to top condition before the night was through. She hadn't slept in almost a week.

Having chakra drain was a normality for her. And so was chakra exhaustion. So was chakra burnout.

So was collapsing in her office at least ten minutes daily.

She'd either cry or lose consciousness, whichever came first. Sakura didn't bother going home anymore. She was needed in the hospital. When she'd rub her watery eyes, she'd wonder why she was miserable when she was so obviously improving. She should be happy. She should smile.

Her eyes were bloodshot and bruised. Her hands kept shaking. Her bones and joints were stiff.

Never mind.

She still smiled.

Take a blood pill. A chakra pill, a food pill, a soldier pill. Caffeine, please.

And then, work even harder.

It was a sad thing, that the medical corps were severely understaffed. Sakura could see it in their faces too, the exhaustion. They spent nights in operating rooms or scurrying down hall after hall, armed with drugs or charts or bodies. Sakura laughed to herself once in a while, and tried to tell herself she wasn't feeling downright awful.

Tired. So tired.

Sakura stifled a yawn and twisted the tap open. Icy cold water rushed out and collected in her cupped hands. She let it overflow for a long moment, staring at her rippling reflection with a morbid sort of interest. She hissed in displeasure at her appearance, but simply let the water splash onto her face, roll down her cheeks, and drench the collar of her white doctor's coat. Or rather, her blood-stained doctor's coat.

She hadn't had the time to remove the stains lately.

She washed her face twice more, to keep her mind from wandering. When it failed to work, she ran a palm down her face in frustration. Sakura rested her other palm on the bathroom sink for support, and whispered to herself, "I'm okay. I'm not weak. I'm okay. I can do this."

That was the mantra that kept her going

She lifted her head to face a mirror, and then forced her usual smile back. The rusty-iron stench of blood filtered her nostrils, but that wasn't anything new. As she gave herself a clear look, she told herself she didn't see the concave crescents that were her cheeks, that she didn't see the thinness of her wrists. From the sink counter, she rifled through her travel pouch, and extracted all she needed. Sakura uncapped the bottles of pills easily, having kept them in her possession for a while now.

Her fingertips were prickling unpleasantly. She didn't care.

She told herself to be patient, and swallowed down a pill, dry. Then, another. And another. And again. And again.

Maybe, she mused, she 'd grown too tolerant to have the pills fix her immediately anymore. She had to take twice the recommended dosage to achieve the proper effects. She found another pill bottle still in the bag, and blinked when she found it empty. She made a mental reminder to stop by the pharmacy immediately. Those pills made her trembling less obvious.

Sakura's smile died a little as she chucked the empty bottle into the bin. There was a piercing 'crash' sound as it collided with all the other empty pill bottles in there. Her hand tightened on the rim of the sink. She whispered to herself to stay patient, but it was in vain. Her mind was ticking as loud as the clock she saw in the mirror. Her back was aching, and she was shaking.

She thought of it as proof she was working hard enough. That she was useful.

"You're crazy," her Inner said. "You need to sleep or you'll crash."

Sakura shook her head to dispel the idea. She was useful, and she was a shinobi as well as a medic. Duty came first, and self, later. The world was on the brink of war. She couldn't slack, or time would get even farther ahead of her. There were too many people to heal as it was, but at least she'd cover more ground if she put in more hours of work. She wouldn't dare slack off when she could save a life.

Time was drowning her anyway. Slowly, slowly.

She was barely afloat.

She took another pill. Then another.

Chakra exhaustion. Mental fatigue. Overworked.

Caffeine, please.

Stay awake. Stay awake.

"Miss Sakura!" a medic-nin burst through the door, gasping for breath. Sakura jumped a little in surprise, and admonished herself for lowering her guard. That was a careless mistake, a genin could've done better. Her green eyes snapped open, though for the life of her, she couldn't remember when they'd closed to begin with.

She acknowledged the medic with a glance in the mirror. The medic looked deeply apologetic, but said, "Miss Sakura, we need you in Operating Room 13! It's an emergency."

Sakura considered herself lucky her back covered the sight of the bottles of medicine. Quickly hiding them back in her bag, she forced another smile. Inwardly, she was screaming.

"I—I'll be right there."

Back to work, Haruno.

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><p>The sky was starless, that night.<p>

Sakura shuffled down the streets, her shoulders tense, and her eyes, bleary, but wide open. The streets were almost bare. The impending war had struck a high sense of paranoia and fear to the entire village. It was expected that the civilians would need to hide, but it was rather worrying that even the ninjas darting about on the terracotta highway were only the ones on duty.

It was well into the wee hours of morning, and she was on her way to the training grounds. Belatedly, she realized that Konoha had never looked so barren before. Never, not once in her like had she felt so much fear hang in the air, than she did tonight. It was almost palpable, and it had her thoughts go wild. She had a nagging feeling that something horrible was about to happen, and soon.

She picked up her pace, ignoring her aching feet.

The village was silent, save for the howling wind. The noise and icy drafts caused goose-bumps to break across her flesh. She hugged her form tightly, and found herself almost wishing she didn't leave her medic coat soaking in one of the sinks in her lab. The coat never failed to keep her warm, even if the rich smell of blood never seemed to go away.

Sakura rubbed an eye with the side of her fist, trying to beat away her exhaustion. She glanced heavenward once more, and couldn't see the moon. It was either absent, or hidden behind the dark, grey and red clouds that clotted the murky sky. The sight of the red clouds had her thoughts wandering to the bane of everyone's existence; the Akatsuki.

It had been a fortnight since Sasuke killed Danzo. There were no more news of the Akatsuki since. It was deeply worrying, because Sasuke and Madara Uchiha had made it clear that they wanted to obliterate Konoha. Lady Tsunade wanted any sort of leverage she could get against them, attending meeting after meeting, making foreign alliances and enemies. Their information on Madara was pitiful at most, and Tsunade knew it. It was a major setback.

Because the attack was going to happen no matter what. It was only a matter of when, and how.

Sakura frowned. She knew Sasuke and Madara were ruthless. They had nothing to lose, nothing to be afraid of. Sakura acknowledged bitterly, that she knew this very well. Sasuke had killed Danzo, and his hands were still tainted with blood as he turned to kill his teammate, the redheaded one— and he had tried to kill Sakura too. Sasuke seemed to revel in killing. He was beyond redemption now.

She couldn't believe that that… monster… was once the boy she loved.

The Akatsuki were strong. She had seen herself, the kind of people they kept in their ranks. Puppets, immortals, cannibals— and those were just a few. If one of them could single-handedly murder an invincible Kazekage, she had no doubt in mind that the rest could probably wipe out an entire nation in a day, if they so wished.

She stood at the gates of the training grounds, and picked at the chains and locks idly. She had the keys, of course, but why was she hesitating to enter? In the recesses of her brain, a clock started ticking loudly. She knew she shouldn't waste time, that she should train while she could, but suddenly, her mind was flooded with thoughts and— she was thinking miles and miles away.

The Akatsuki were strong, but Konoha had three of them in detainment. There was Hidan, a decapitated immortal buried deep under the earth. There was Karin, a very precise tracker who felt chakra first, and touch later. There was Deidara, the mad-bomber, and killer of the untouchable Gaara. These people were forces to be reckoned with. They have proven to be either prove to be formidable enemies, or great assets to have.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

But two of them were incapacitated, and the third, Karin, held no more loyalties anywhere. Hidan's current state could easily be rectified, but Deidara—

Sakura frowned at the thought of the blond missing-nin.

Memories flickered in her eyes. She remembered the massive explosion. She had never seen anything like it, never felt such exhilarating nausea before. She was blown away. It had happened so quickly, so loudly that she couldn't hear, so brightly that she was left temporarily blinded. And it was even clearer, the memory of finding him, lying still in the middle of a burning forest, dead matter all around him.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

He was a mass of burnt flesh and torn muscle. There was barely any skin on him, much less any obvious defining trait. He was so mangled and still, her stomach churned. She had thought him dead, until he started laughing, and laughing, and laughing. It wasn't in good humor, but it was definitely empty, and broken. Her ears still rung from the sound.

It was a miracle in itself that she could tell who he was, albeit very belatedly. It took one look in those eyes, and she knew. She remembered them, from the first time she'd seen them, back in the cave she'd all but destroyed. Sakura had never forgotten the manic glint behind those eyes. Dangerous, unpredictable. He was insane.

He told her he wanted to die.

And something in her just couldn't let that happen. The next thing she knew, she was mending him. Pakkun was looking at her oddly, and she was blurting out any excuse that she could think of. This was treason. This was bad, this was very bad. She knew she should've just done the world a favor and killed him, but she couldn't.

"No, no!" Sakura had yelled, wide-eyed at Pakkun, when he had asked if she wanted any backup. "I know what I'm doing. Just— just go back to Kakashi-sensei. You can tell him whatever you want, Pakkun, but please. Not in front of Naruto. Please?"

And the nin-dog had looked at her wearily, like he had no idea how to react to this. And he had said, finally, "What about you?"

Deidara had kept on laughing, protesting and groaning all at once. Sakura had bitten her lip, and went forcing more healing chakra into him. She said, "I'm doubling back to Konoha. I—" She had refused to think she was committing treason, so she thought up another excuse. "I'm handing him to Hokage. Just… don't tell Naruto."

She didn't want Naruto to know. This was Deidara, the man who single-handedly murdered the Kazekage, the man who fought off a team of close-combat specialists without his arms. Had Naruto knew then, that Deidara was there, under her healing hands, he would've never forgiven her. He wouldn't even hesitate to drive a killing blow to end the missing-nin. No one messed with Naruto's friends.

But despite the grudges she had against him, she just couldn't let him die.

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><p>AN: The exposition is more or less over. :D Now, on with the plot.

Reviews make the world a better place.


	3. Inure

Title: Armageddon

Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.

Type: Ongoing.

Note(s): Certain things will deviate from the canon chapter 363, but events after chapter 481 will be altered completely.

Warning(s): Just the usual. Language, death, torture, lame battle scenes, suicidal thoughts… yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognized terms or characters.

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><p><strong>Hell is being alive, and being alive is all there is.<strong>

**MICHAEL MARSHALL, **_**The Upright Man**_

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><p><strong>3<strong>

With time, Deidara woke up.

Although he kept his eyes closed, he could sense a searing light shining on him. It confused him; he had half-expected to be greeted with hell's fire, to be a mass of rotting, burning flesh under the cruel eyes of the devil. He had expected to still feel pain, but there was none. He knew he wasn't in heaven— he would never be in heaven— but this definitely wasn't hell.

He couldn't feel his limbs, but he sensed that he was lying flat on his back, on something cold and stiff. He tried accessing his chakra to get a feel of his surroundings, but for reasons beyond him, he couldn't find his reserves at all. Deidara didn't panic just yet; he knew he wasn't completely useless without chakra, so he relied next, on his senses.

He was somewhere cold, and most likely, in a room. There was a strong, sterile smell, and if the sound of bottles clinking together were any sort of indication, he wasn't alone.

A more sensible part of him said not to move, but he was as impetuous as ever. Paranoid, nauseated, and definitely disoriented, his eyes snapped open to face a blinding white light fixture. Spots of color exploded in his seared vision, but he watched as the light swung in lazy arcs, like a slowing pendulum. It told him he was in a small or barely furnished room, and that whoever was in there with him, had only just entered.

He looked either side of him, his chest finally rising and falling as he took rapid, harsh breaths. There was an IV drip to his right, a heart monitor to his left, and some other machines he couldn't identify. All of them looked as if wires had exploded out of them, coiling and twisting.

As he lifted his head with a soft grunt, ignoring the twinges of pain, he found that the wires were all connected to him, and that the reason he couldn't move was because he was strapped down by thick belts of leather. The confusion that clouded his eyes cleared immediately, and he began to panic. Being captured wasn't good. Being unable to do anything about it was even worse.

Deidara was vaguely aware that the heart monitor had started beeping incessantly. All he knew was that he had to get out, and escape. Never mind that he had no recollection as to how he ended up there to begin with. His breaths grew sharper, and so did the feelings of pain that erupted in his lungs. What the hell had happened to him?

"Keep still, or the bed'll topple over," said a decidedly feminine voice, and it cut through the pounding sounds of his heartbeats like nothing else. Deidara grit his teeth, but didn't listen. Who the hell did she think she was, ordering him around? He made a mental note to obliterate her, when he'd bust out of this place.

Wherever the hell he was.

The voice didn't sound too impressed with him. "Are you trying to be funny? Unless you calm down, I'll put you under again."

He stopped breathing for a moment, and his head started pounding as furiously as his heart.

Again? As in, he'd been awake before? Again, as in, he had been put under a few times before?

What the fuck?

"Show yourself, yeah," he tried barking, but his words barely even made it out. He felt as if sandpaper had been rubbed against his throat, and he sounded so weak and pitiful it had him cringe. Deidara struggled under the leather straps again, and once more, they snagged and tugged him so he lay flat. He growled audibly, and tried again. And again.

There was a frustrated groan. Bottles clinked as they were set back on their racks, and the voice hissed, "What do you think you're doing? Stop moving!"

"Shut up, yeah," he said. "I'll kill you."

"For what? I'm doing you a favor… unless you like painful hemorrhaging," came the snarky reply. Deidara tensed as the wheels began turning quickly in his drug-fogged brain.

"Quit the screaming," he told her again, his voice more insistent. "My head hurts."

The voice sounded mildly amused. "Then focus on the pain, and not the noise."

Deidara made an impatient noise. "Bullshit advice, yeah."

He tried lifting his head again, but his captor forced him to lie still, her hand held firmly against his brow. Deidara fumed. A part of him noted that her hand was much colder than the room, and it was shaking rather badly too. He wondered if it was out of fear, and let a sneer break across his chapped lips. He looked up to get a good look at her face, but was all but caught by green, green, green eyes.

And everything came crashing down on him.

That bastard Uchiha. His failed masterpiece. Red. Pain. Failure. Failure.

Hate.

He was quick to move and bite her hand, hard, and she hissed and cursed. As he tasted blood on his tongue, he cackled in glee. Serves her right for meddling. Fucking goody-goody Konoha-nins. His blue eyes held anger and utter loathing, and Deidara swore that had he had his hands free, he would've already had strangled her.

The medic was smart enough to keep his head in a stronger hold the second time around, and she sent chakra waves to his brain. Almost instantly, the intensity of his glare dulled, and so did the racing of his heart. Even in his sedated state, his rage was ever present. He swore that this was possibly a close second to the most humiliating moment in his blown-to-shit life.

The pink haired medic sent him a scathing look. "I hate you."

Like he cared.

He snorted disdainfully. "Oh, no. I think I'm gonna cry, yeah."

"Why you—" she started, her hair bristling as her temper brewed like it was hot lava. The restraining hand she pressed to his brow tightened painfully, but Deidara refused to wince. She set her jaw, her eyes flashing to life for one tiny instant. "I saved your ass, you ungrateful bastard! If it weren't for me, you'd be dead!"

The chakra waves stopped flowing in his mind, and Deidara found himself slowly getting angrier again. "I noticed. You fucking Konoha-nins and your hero complex! Think you have to save everyone all the time, yeah! You didn't save me, you _ruined _me."

His words were like one cold, hard slap on her face, but he didn't know that then. She looked positively incensed, and her hand drew back in a fist, aimed at his ashen face. Deidara's sneer didn't falter one bit. She took a few sharp breaths, her shoulders practically shaking with the effort she took to calm herself down.

Deidara laughed again, that chilling laugh she'd heard back in that burnt forest.

"Shut up," she whispered shakily, and that was when he knew he'd struck a chord in her. "I— I saved you. You were bleeding, and you were dying, so I saved you."

His steely blue eyes glinted malevolently. "People don't always want to be saved, yeah. I didn't ask for you to save me. Ever heard of letting things be?"

She tried her best not to look too startled, but he caught her gaze and held it. She said, "Why did you want to die?"

Deidara's lips curled downwards, his expression contorting into one of sheer distaste. "Why should I want to live anymore, yeah?"

She perked up at his choice of words, but suspicion caused her shoulders to tense slightly. "Why did you want to live before?"

He schooled his features into one of cool indifference. "Does it matter anymore? It's all over, yeah. It's all meaningless… Why the fuck am I talking to you?"

"I don't know, you tell me," she said, rolling her shoulders. She turned to the side for a moment and observed the machines around him. Deidara couldn't tell if she was avoiding him, or if she truly was trying to be professional. He suspected the former. She looked like the sentimental type.

Deidara snorted once more, muttering nastily under his breath, "Leaf-nins and their obsession to be a bloody savior all the time. Fucking kill her. I'll kill her."

"I don't care what you think," she shot back, far too hastily, and Deidara found himself sneering. She busied herself checking his vitals, her soothing green chakra barely touching his skin, and yet eliciting gooseflesh to appear. Deidara wasn't used any sort of contact, and so he tensed. The sensations weren't uncomfortable… just very different. The medic, fortunately, kept her mouth shut.

With wary, untrusting eyes, Deidara studied her for a long while. He knew he had seen her at least once before, because her pink hair looked vaguely familiar. What shinobi in her right mind would keep pink hair? And why the hell was she wearing red? Pink and red clashed horribly—

"Quit staring," she admonished, though her eyes hadn't strayed from her task at all.

He ignored her, his eyes dusting over her features with muted agitation, but also, piqued interest. Pink hair, ugly red vest, unhealthily pale skin, and green eyes. Her eyes were dead looking now, but he'd seen, mere moments before, what they had looked like as they were exploding with life. They were a vibrant green, not like her chakra, not like forests or grass. Green.

"I know you," he said suddenly, his eyes widening in realization. "You killed Danna."

"Who?"

His eye narrowed at her impatiently. "Sasori, yeah. You killed Sasori. You're Sakura Haruno."

"And you're Deidara," she replied with a droning hum.

Deidara looked away from her, staring once more at the white light hanging above him. "You don't look like much, yeah. More like a princess than a ninja. Don't know how you made it out alive."

"You look like you rolled over in bat shit for a month," she answered, her teeth clenched. "But I'm not one to insult people, especially not bastards like you. Really."

He made a sound at the back of his burning throat, one that would've been a chuckle. "At least I've got an excuse, yeah. What's yours, hmm?"

Her chakra turned from healing, to offensive in an instant. Deidara bit back a yelp as it scalded him. Sakura didn't look like she cared all too much that her careful healing had been ruined. She said, her voice low and dangerous, "I told you, I don't care what you think. Now do me a favor and be quiet."

Deidara scowled. "What did you do that for, yeah? Said you were healing me."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're a prisoner. You don't get to talk back… or ask any questions for that matter."

"I'm a prisoner," he repeated in an unimpressed drawl. "Says you. Too bad, I don't care what you say either."

Sakura didn't even blink at his declaration, and this annoyed him to no end. He detested being ignored.

"Why am I here?" he demanded, apprehensive.

She didn't immediately answer. "… What?"

"Didn't think you were hard of hearing."

The medic's green eyes met the furious blue of his own. She lifted a finger, and at its tip was a very fine, very sharp form of offensive chakra, like a makeshift scalpel. She nicked him swiftly on his shoulder, barely touching him, but his skin started stinging sharply. He knew that the sound of little drops splashing onto the floor was his blood. He stared at her defiantly as she pointed the 'weapon' dangerously close to his face.

"I'm in charge," she hissed. "No cheek. No questions."

Deidara bared his teeth, snarling. "You don't ask for answers, yeah."

"I already know all I want," Sakura said, her brow knitted together. "Whatever else is none of my business. That's why I'm handing you over to the Terror and Interrogation Team first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thanks for the heads up," Deidara drawled. "I'll be looking forward to it, yeah. Not like I've got anything left to lose."

Sakura rubbed at her eye with the back of her hand. "They're not afraid to kill you."

He smirked. "That's alright, yeah. I'm not afraid to die."

* * *

><p>The Fifth Hokage watched forlornly as cirrus clouds drifted mindlessly over the sooty, grey and blue skies that hovered over Konoha. Even in her office, protected behind walls and windows, she could smell the stench of smoke and death. These days, it lingered in the air, so thickly it was almost palpable. Tsunade was nothing, if not a cynic, and so couldn't help but wonder if the brighter days would be gone for a long while now.<p>

She spun on her chair to address the man that had been standing before her desk for a while now. Her amber eyes met the lone dark one of Kakashi Hatake, and wasted no more time in speaking. They had shared the same, grim silence for a while now. She asked, "Any news?"

His gaze travelled to the window behind her, and found the horizon that slowly seemed to be closing in. "Sound has decided to side with Madara."

"Sound?" Tsunade repeated skeptically, folding her hands under her chin. "Sound was abolished."

Kakashi shook his head, his light grey mane stirring gently with the movement. "We thought so too, but Neji Hyuuga has confirmed that they're all currently in hiding, and their Kage is none other than Kabuto himself. They're planning to make a move sometime soon. In two weeks, maybe even less… and Sasuke and the Akatsuki will be coming too."

The blonde woman cursed softly under her breath, and longingly wished for one of her many bottles of sake. She hadn't drunken any since she'd woken from her coma. Tsunade really was getting too old for this job; she wasn't so sure anymore if she'd make it through yet another shinobi war. The last one was bad enough. Tsunade's gaze darkened with the memory.

"Has Karin said anything useful yet?" she asked him, even if she already did know the answer. Her village was already weakened from the last attack by Pein, she knew all her shinobi would need any sort of leverage they could get. Tsunade had a feeling that alliances from foreign villages just weren't going to cut it anymore.

"No," Kakashi answered, and pocketed his hands in his pants so he'd return to his signature slouch. "But I suggest we finally make use of the Akatsuki in the Nara forest. If he really claims to be an immortal, I've no doubt he'd still be alive. In pieces, but definitely alive."

Tsunade tilted her head in consideration, and then, "No. That Nara boy already said he wasn't entirely sure where he'd buried the pieces, and putting him back together will take too much time. We need… we'd need the one Sakura brought in… Deidara, was it? It's been two months. If he hasn't broken out of his coma yet, he's useless too."

"I'm not sure," Kakashi murmured, his brow crinkling slightly. "Sakura hasn't come by lately?"

Frowning, she admitted, "No. But I trust her to come by if—"

There was a soft rap on the door, cutting any more of Tsunade's words. She was about to dismiss whoever it was, but the second she detected that familiar chakra signature, she muttered, "And speak of the devil." Then, a little louder, "Enter, Sakura."

The prized apprentice of the Hokage did so with little hesitation, but her steps did falter the second her eyes landed on her genin sensei. Kakashi turned half-way and greeted her with a small wave of his hand, and a friendly, "Yo."

Sakura forced her best grin to spread across her face, and she resisted the urge to fidget. She hadn't seen her teammates for a while now, and this had included Kakashi. Not that they hadn't looked for her at all, she had simply made excuse after excuse, and had told any of the interns to pass them along if her friends asked for her.

It wasn't so much that she didn't want to see them— well, maybe she _didn't_want to see Naruto yet, but that was just him— but more because she didn't want them to take a look at her and realize what an awful sight she made. And she did look awful. Sakura's eyes were bloodshot and bruised, her hair unkempt, and her clothes were more than two days old. Yes, she must have made quite an impression.

But she reminded herself, that this was an emergency. She couldn't be taking vanity trips when there were more pressing matters at stake. With this thought in mind, she was resolved to simply ignore the odd looks and worried glances both the Hokage and Kakashi had given her. She simply delivered her message.

"Deidara's now stable, and awake."

Tsunade seemed to finally recollect herself. Her eyes hardened, as did her own posture, and she spoke.

"Have him interrogated."

* * *

><p>AN: Reviews=inspiration=faster updates. :D


	4. Deturpate

Title: Armageddon

Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.

Type: Ongoing.

Note(s): Certain things will deviate from the canon chapter 363, but events after chapter 481 will be altered completely.

Warning(s): Just the usual. Language, death, torture, lame battle scenes, suicidal thoughts… yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognized terms or characters.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for the feedback! By the way, an anonymous reviewer, snowflake, has mentioned that the plot isn't so clear yet. I'm sorry about that, but it's purely intentional. I have to build up certain things first. :D

* * *

><p><strong>Hell is other people.<strong>

**JEAN-PAUL SARTRE, _No __Exit_**

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>

Time was moving far too quickly.

Tsunade hated to admit it, but she was running out of options. If Deidara should refuse to cooperate during his interrogation, they'd be left virtually blind against not only Madara, but also Sasuke, Kabuto and the entire Sound platoon. Whether she had allies or not, she knew that without any leverage, Konoha would be sorely outclassed.

It was unbelievably frustrating, to be leaving the fate of the village— and the shinobi world— to one of the very enemies they were fighting against. Tsunade fought against the urge to worry her lip. She wondered briefly, if that Deidara knew just how much power he currently had over the situation, and she wondered if he would use that power against her. Tsunade wouldn't put it past him, but she really was loath to care about power shifts anymore.

Her village, and much more— the entire Shinobi world was at stake.

Power was only power.

What her village needed was strength.

The door to her office opened. Tsunade's blonde head snapped up to appraise the newcomers with a jerky, impatient nod. She beckoned them forward and folded her hands in front of her neatly, a habit she'd come into, to calm herself down. The two men bowed politely, but even before they rose again, Tsunade cut in hastily, "Hatake. I assume you've already filled Ibiki in on everything already?"

The interrogator murmured an affirmative, and then, out of curiosity, he asked, "Hokage-sama, why haven't anyone else been informed that that Akatsuki is here?"

"Sakura knows, and so do my most trusted ANBU, but no one else knows. The elders wouldn't approve of this," Tsunade said quietly, her eyes darting to the door once. "As far as they're concerned, Hidan is dead, and Karin should be enough for information. Any others that were brought here should've been executed immediately. The elders wouldn't care whether or not Deidara would be an asset, because all they see is a threat. Surely you understand now, Ibiki, how important it is that nothing said here leaves this room?"

Ibiki nodded. "Deidara has been transferred to Cell X, and he's been effectively restrained. He won't be trying anything if he can help it. He's been heavily sedated, but he'll be waking soon."

"And you're sure he'll cooperate like that?" Kakashi mused aloud, his visible eye slanting toward the intimidating man.

"I can't treat him any differently than how I treat any other criminal, or it'd be too obvious we want something from him," Ibiki explained. "But I assure you, I will have the information we need, in time."

The Fifth Hokage hid her worried frown, though her eyes showed plenty enough of it to make both men feel uneasy for the fate of the village. She said, "Time is what we're short of."

"Are you sure you wouldn't want a Yamanaka in on this?" Kakashi asked.

Tsunade scowled. "I don't know enough Yamanakas to trust them explicitly, Hatake. There's Inoichi, but he's currently on a mission. And there's his kid, Ino, but from what I've heard from most of the Konoha Eleven, she's a gossip."

The copy nin scratched the back of his head thoughtfully, leaning against the far wall in a sluggish manner. "Maybe I should ask Sakura. They're best friends. Maybe, Ino knows how to keep certain things a secret."

Ibiki cleared his throat. "From what I've gathered from Kakashi, Deidara responds well to pressure. We don't know for sure if torture will work on him. If that isn't the case, then we might have to bring in Inoichi's brat. She might want to assist us, even if they do look somewhat alike."

Kakashi smiled behind his mask, amusement apparent in his tone. "Maybe, he's a narcissist."

An ANBU flickered by the only open window in the room. He wore the standard white mask, this one vaguely resembling a rhinoceros, and it warped and disjointed his voice. "Hokage-sama. The captive in Cell X is now awake."

The tall interrogator smirked, his hardened features looking more aggressive despite the slight hint of sadistic excitement in his dark eyes. "I guess this is my cue."

* * *

><p>When Deidara awoke, there was black.<p>

Everywhere he looked, there was the same monotonous color. He knew then that the ANBU had neglected to remove whatever it was that blinded him. He wasn't too surprised, but he'd been hoping they'd been stupid enough to be a little nicer. Being without sight was a sore disadvantage. Deidara pressed his lips together, and lowered his head to rethink everything.

Deafening silence hung in the stale air, but Deidara wasn't yet convinced he was alone. He tried to lift his arms, but found that they were pinned to his sides yet again, this time, by something that felt like strong canvas. He knew then that the ANBU that dragged him there hadn't thought to remove the straitjacket either. Bastards.

He kept fidgeting, and as the seconds passed, achingly slow, he found distress rising in him. It wasn't so much panic for his current situation, but more for the ugly stillness of everything. There was just black, black, black, and there was no sound. Deidara loathed stagnancy. It was the unholy opposite of everything he believed in.

The memory of his failed masterpiece assailed him. He was supposed to have been taken away with the blast, to be blown and ripped to shreds and unleash such a devastating beauty. He had developed that particular jutsu for the sheer purpose of creating the finest form of art. And it had failed as a masterpiece. And his art had failed to become a masterpiece.

And his art had failed.

Had the blind not been hiding him, his eyes would've appeared glassy. Haunted. One could've said… heartbroken. Deidara's shoulders sunk, and there was a whisper, in the back of his head, telling him he might as well just let go of everything. His breaths grew ragged as the urge to scream threatened to overwhelm him. There was that familiar rage again, creeping up on every inch of him, threatening to cloud his thoughts and pull him under—

He heard the door swing open, and Deidara tensed just as the need to escape shot through him. He knew that while his art's failure was absolutely devastating, he wouldn't be able to bitch, moan and fix that problem if he was still captured and kept like an animal in a cage. He needed to escape, and if he'd die in the process, then so be it. And if he didn't die, then he'd scream and tear everything to shreds without having himself tranquilized or sedated by those fucking Konoha-nins.

They ruined everything.

Especially that Haruno girl. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He would've been long dead, long gone. He was undeniably enraged by the fact that his jutsu had failed, that he had been dying slowly instead of in one beautiful instant— but at least he would've died. Death was rather like an escape, a better hell, compared to the one that was currently presented in the form of constancy, blackness and life. And everything else.

He hated everything.

Deidara couldn't care less if he lived or died anymore. He just wanted his dignity back.

He just hated it all.

The door hinges made an ear-splitting screech that lasted far longer than necessary. Following the noise were a series of footfalls colliding on a metal floor. Deidara quietly decided that attempted escape would be easily heard by anyone nearby. He tilted his head, broadening his other senses once more so he'd be able to gauge who he assumed was his interrogator.

"You're awake," said a very masculine, deep, and gruff voice. Definitely one of authority, Deidara mused, and definitely not a nice guy. While the unknown man's movements were almost silent, Deidara measured the intervals between each footfall and presumed this man to be a very tall, powerfully built man.

Deidara didn't provide any reply, but his head followed the man as he rounded the room. The man dragged out a chair nearby in front of him, and rested his hands against a hard, but hollow surface. Deidara pictured a small table placed in between him and the interrogator, and wondered if there was anything else on it that might be used for torture, should he not cooperate. How wonderful.

"Do you know where you are, Deidara?"

No answer.

Truthfully, Deidara knew where exactly he was. He remembered the Haruno girl leaving him drugged up so heavily he could barely string two words together, much less fight. But strangely enough, he'd been acutely aware of everything that happened around him. He remembered the ANBU slapping tags and chakra sealing bracelets on his wrists. He recalled them numbing his hands and forcing him in a straitjacket, and dragging him to where he currently was: the interrogation compound. It had been so humiliating. He wanted to blast them all every oblivion that ever existed.

"I know you can hear me," the voice cut through his thoughts. "I suggest you answer me."

"…"

When it became clear that Deidara wasn't about to answer at any time near soon, the voice spoke again, sounding vaguely amused. "Insisting on being difficult, then? Very well. I have other methods of getting you to talk." There was a sound, like something sleek and metallic had been picked up off the table. Deidara made no outward indication he heard anything, persisting in his silence.

Even through the next few, agonizing hours, Deidara said nothing.

He wanted to spare whatever scraps of his dignity that was left.

* * *

><p>The overhead bell chimed merrily as the Pharmacy door swung open. Sakura all but stumbled in, her sandal-clad feet grating against the white tiles of the floor. Sakura's smile was long gone, and now in its place was one uncomfortable grimace. She wanted so badly to put on the doctor's coat that was draped across her arm, but knew that would only stir questions in her friends. She never wore it out of the hospital. She shouldn't start. They would suspect something was up with her.<p>

Her hands tightened. The ends of the coat swept the floor as she crossed it, nodding hastily to the other occupants of the room. She was short on time; she couldn't stop for conversation. Luckily, there was no one there she knew personally. Well, almost no one. As Sakura looked up, she was greeted with the sight of her best friend. Ino.

Sakura could recognize her form from behind one of the many counters. The blonde teen had her face turned away from proper view, and appeared to be grinding herbs with pestle and mortar. Sakura stopped for a moment, her free hand curling over her chest almost defensively. She hadn't seen Ino in a while, but Sakura wasn't exactly in the mood for chitchat.

Sakura thought perhaps she could avoid her by choosing another counter, but one of the pharmacists decided to alert the blonde of her presence. Ino looked over her shoulder and regarded her with a cheery smile, but then faltered. As the blonde's eyes suddenly danced with mixed feelings, among them being worry and suspicion, Sakura knew immediately her grin was definitely too tight. Not for the first time in her life, Sakura cursed Ino's high levels of perception.

Too late now, to turn away. Ino had already spotted her.

With those thoughts in mind, she shuffled towards the counter Ino was managing. The girl was already there, switching the sign on her counter so it read 'closed'. Sakura inwardly sighed, knowing she would be in for a long conversation if she didn't shut her down quickly. The pink haired girl blinked, and wondered when exactly had she started thinking so coldly about her own friends.

"Back so soon, Forehead-girl?"

Sakura shrugged, sliding her medic-nin badge across the laminated counter to show she was on official business. She ran her slightly shaking hand self-consciously through her dull, sweaty hair. She vaguely remembered dropping by the Pharmacy, but couldn't recall if it had been in the last few days, or in the last week. Time had passed too quickly to remember much.

"Yeah," she said finally, reaching in her pocket for a piece of paper. "I've got a patient that's in no state to come by. Here's his prescription."

It was a fake, but Ino needn't know that.

The blonde teen took the piece of paper from her, and went over it quickly. Ino looked at her dubiously. "The Azul v155? Chakra pills? Soldier pills? Just what the hell happened to this patient?"

"Chakra depletion. And his chakra pathways are a little disrupted due to malnourishment," Sakura answered immediately, her eyes clouding over for an instant. It was best to tell as close to the truth as possible. "And the Azul v155 is for—"

"Regulating homeostatic processes," Ino supplied with a roll of her eyes. Her tone was dry, and almost accusing, for reasons beyond Sakura's understanding. "Also for uncontrollable body temperature and vasodilation, and on a certain scale… trembling. Yeah, yeah. I know. But this sounds a hell lot like the meds you asked for last week, Forehead…"

Sakura narrowed her eyes, but tried not to sound too defensive. "Yes. The same patient got himself checked in again last night."

"Why does he need the same medicine?" Ino asked, raising an eyebrow. "I doubt he'd get the exact same conditions he had the last time he was injured…"

"Well, he did," she sputtered in return. "And I'm a freaking doctor, so I ought to be taking care of him, instead of prying in his business. It's rude."

"Health_ is_ your business, Forehead-girl. And he's not taking very good care of himself, is he?" Ino quipped with a toss of her hair, focusing her cornflower blue eyes on her immaculately manicured nails in a carefully bored manner. "You, of all people, should know that feeding that guy these pills aren't supposed to be a substitute for good rest and proper nourishment. Why are you humoring him?"

The pink haired girl shook her head a little too vigorously, and found herself instantly regretted the action. Waves of nausea crept up her spine, and she would've lost her balance had she not been leaning against the counter. She fought against averting her gaze when Ino turned her attention on her again, only this time, with studious intent. Sakura cleared her throat quietly, but her voice still held a bit of a rasp. "Konoha is on the brink of war, Ino. You know this. We can't afford to keep our Shinobi in the hospital for too long."

"I'll say," Ino agreed with a scowl. "Look at you! When was the last time you actually saw some sun? When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Or spent any time with anyone that wasn't dying? You look horrible."

"Ino-pig, the pills, please," she insisted once more, glancing at the clock that hung on the furthest wall. "I've got to head back to the hospital."

The blonde pharmacist didn't budge, looking highly unimpressed with her. She crossed her legs and spun herself on her swivel chair in small arcs, absolutely defiant and determined. "No, I think you should head back home and take a rest. My shift's almost over. Head home, and I'll cover for you in the hospital."

"No. I-I need to make a few stops along the way too," Sakura lied. "And they're nearer to the hospital than home, so I don't see why I can't rest in my office. So please, the pills, Ino."

Ino scrunched up her nose in distaste, toying with the prescription dangling between her fingertips. "It wasn't a question. Head home. I'm feeling kind of bored today, so I guess I could run whatever errands for you. And I don't think the hospital staff would mind me taking over for you. I'll even give the pills to your… patient. What do you say?"

It was a dare. It was very obvious that Ino knew that these pills weren't for any patient, but were for herself. Sakura's throat went dry, but she managed to say, "Don't need to trouble yourself, Pig. I could do this myself… And besides, I've got a patient to watch over. He just woke from a coma, and his case is a… special one. I know as best as I medically can about him. You don't, so I can't let you."

That wasn't a total lie.

"What, you think I can't figure out what's wrong with a patient by taking a good look?" Ino asked sharply, and a few heads turned in their direction curiously.

Sakura frowned. "No, I don't mean that… It's just that he's… different. You— you wouldn't—"

"I wouldn't what? I wouldn't understand?" Ino interjected angrily, paying no mind when Sakura tried to shush her. "Geez, thanks for the faith in my abilities, Forehead-girl. Just what I needed to hear."

Sakura grit her teeth together, snapping, "Don't you pull that on me. I'm right and you know it. Now hand me those pills. I'm needed in the hospital. I need to—"

"Work overtime? Nu-uh. You're over working," Ino spat. "And for what cause? You look like hell. When was the last time you slept? When was the last time you had _any_ rest? No one wants a medic who's dead on her feet."

"I'm fine, Ino!" Sakura blurted her tired green eyes flickering back to life. "And if you want to work in the hospital so bad, what are you doing here? You're way overqualified to work in a pharmacy, and you know it. If you want to go save fucking lives, then why don't you?" She regretted it as soon as she said it.

She knew Ino had been avoiding medical duties since Asuma-sensei's death. Sakura mentally kicked herself, cursing her own insensitivity. Ino had offered to work again in the field she was most insecure about, and for her, the bitchy idiot of a best friend. Sakura bit her lip, feeling more than just a little foolish.

Ino folded her arms across her chest, her pupil-less blue eyes glinting. "Fine. I'll get you the pills. Tell your patient to get himself together before he loses it."

She knew that Ino wasn't talking about the patient at all, but said nothing. Ino might've realized that Sakura was going to apologize, but didn't allow it. The blonde girl simply stood up and walked to the medicine cupboards, avoiding Sakura's gaze, and staying out of earshot. Sakura rubbed at her green eyes furiously.

They stung.

* * *

><p>AN: The Azul v155 is a medicine I made up. :D

Reviews=Happiness=Inspiration=Updates.


	5. Nocency

****Title: Armageddon

Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.

Type: Ongoing.

Note(s): Certain things will deviate from the canon chapter 363, but events after chapter 481 will be altered completely.

Warning(s): Just the usual. Language, death, torture, lame battle scenes, suicidal thoughts… yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognized terms or characters.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! :D

* * *

><p><strong>The road to Hell is paved with good intenti<strong>**ons.**

**KARL MARX, _Capital_**

* * *

><p><strong>5<strong>

Two days later

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Tick—

…_tock._

Sakura's shoulders grew tenser as each –_ticking— _second passed, her fists shaking with the effort she took not to scream. The clock was far, far across the room behind her, and yet its sounds rung so loud it echoed in her head. She wanted to say _yeah, I know, damn it. _Sakura knew she was running farther and farther behind time. She needed to catch up, but time wasn't letting her. It was just so maddening.

She still wasn't strong enough.

A heaving sigh tore from her lips, and shadows flickered behind her tired green eyes. Sakura could hear the clock, still mocking her behind her back, taunting her. She bit her lip hard, and steeled herself forward. There was no sense in simply standing there uselessly. Sakura needed to keep working. Maybe, she'd catch up yet.

At the sight of a window, she paused. Sakura watched as the afternoon sun struggled through a grey mass of clouds and smoke. Bleeding through the window were rays of light which would occasionally filter through, casting a paradox of light and shadow. Sakura realized how they created such a feeling of stillness in the air, and wondered if the civilians felt it too. She watched them as they carried about their daily activities with tense bodies and hurried conversations.

It was irrefutable; there was something lurking over the near horizon, something that was drawing near, something that would threaten them. Attempt to destroy them.

The war was coming, and soon.

She couldn't resist the fear and apprehension stirring in her stomach. Sakura's hands shook with the struggle to beat back the morbid imaginings bombarding her brain. She had faith in her village, she really and truly did— but they were still recovering from Pein's invasion as it was. Sakura wasn't about to ignore how their stocks, crops and shelters were mostly destroyed. Life was about to get a lot more difficult. It was going to get worse, a lot worse.

This was life.

She sighed heavily, tearing her gaze from the window. She forced herself to continue walking down the corridor, her steps measured.

"I hope we make it," she murmured to herself, her eyes shut tight as she imagined a star to wish upon. She hardly cared that it was only just mid-afternoon. The night skies were too empty for wishing anyway. "Gods, I hope we make it."

"Are you okay?"

She blinked, and looked up to meet Shizune's concerned face. The woman fell in step beside her without question, hugging several medical files closer to her chest. Sakura offered her a wan smile, and answered honestly, "I'm managing."

Shizune winced, and looked suddenly, just as tired as Sakura felt, if not even more. And it was no wonder. It was bad enough that things were already hectic, but the older woman had only recently taken up the position as hospital head. Shizune averted her gaze, her voice softer, "I'm really sorry about this, Sakura… about keeping you here, I mean. I understand this is taking a lot of your time, but—"

"Nonsense!" Sakura said, her eyes widening in shock. "I really don't mind. I— I'm glad that I can be of use here." She shook her head, stopping for a while. "I'm glad… that I can do something to help. And I really do want to be here. I _want _to help, Shizune." _I have to. _She pressed her lips together before that last thought escaped her.

A grateful smile split across Shizune's face. "Thank you… Really though, I'm sorry for all this."

"Hey," Sakura paused, her hand latching tightly on her other arm. "Please… don't apologize. There's nothing to be sorry about."

And the words were truth. Shizune had no hand at all in the increasing number of patients and deaths. Shizune had no control over what happened to the shinobi in the battlefield. War was encroaching on their very lives, and these things couldn't be helped. Shizune had nothing, nothing, _nothing_ to apologize for.

The minutes droned on in silence, and they continued walking down corridor after corridor. Sakura wondered why it was that Shizune had yet to leave. Five minutes have long since passed, and her hands were shaking again. Sakura wanted to continue working, but she was loath to leave Shizune on an awkward note. Sakura glanced at the older woman sidelong, and found her fidgeting slightly.

"Shizune?" she called, the unspoken question of what was wrong carrying across the air.

"Are you busy?" Shizune asked her instead of answering, and adjusted her grip on her files.

Sakura frowned. "Not at the moment, no. Is there something you want me to do?"

"Only if it isn't much trouble," Shizune told her with an embarrassed smile. "Genma's team stumbled in just a while back, and one of his team members need to undergo surgery. I want to perform it, but it's clashing with the other duty I've got in an hour... Some shinobi are due for checkups. There aren't many of them scheduled for this afternoon— just three. It won't take long."

"I don't mind," Sakura assured her, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Great!" Shizune said, grinning her thanks. "I'll tell them for you, to avoid complications. I doubt there'd be any, though."

Sakura asked, "Who are they?"

The first two names were pocketed in her mind easily, but then she heard it.

"… and your old sensei," Shizune finished, smiling. "Kakashi."

Sakura froze. "… Oh."

The older woman's eyes widened in mild panic. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she said, her green eyes suddenly finding the floor interesting. "Hearing Kakashi's name just took me by surprise, that's all. Haven't seen him in a while." That wasn't a total lie.

Shizune looked at her intently, her tone betraying a hint of worry. "You don't sound too excited to see him."

She wasn't. Sakura knew Kakashi had a reputation of avoiding being in the hospital at all costs, but if the look he'd given her a few days ago was any indication, he'd be dropping by when he heard she'd be doing the checkups. She fretted, wishing she could kick herself for not asking who she'd be examining before offering assistance. She couldn't back out now.

Sakura mentally groaned.

She blinked, forcing herself out of her thoughts. She met Shizune's eyes daringly. "Oh, no. It's nothing like that," she lied. "It's just… You know Kakashi. He'd keep away from the hospital if he could help it. Last time he was scheduled for a checkup, Kenji-san ended up waiting an hour for nothing."

Shizune laughed, all traces of suspicion and worry gone.

Sakura sighed heavily, praying softly that he wouldn't come.

* * *

><p>Ultimately, he did.<p>

"You're late," she informed him needlessly, merely wanting to break the ice.

Kakashi shrugged as he sauntered into the room, hands in his pockets. He gifted her a glance in acknowledgment and murmured some ridiculous excuse involving ducks and tigers. She rolled her eyes, picking up her stethoscope as he sat on the examination table expectantly. A soon as these few words were exchanged, she had little else to say.

She worked tensely, her jaw set tight as she checked his heartbeat and vitals. Sakura wasn't about to fool herself into thinking he didn't have something to say. She knew he was here for her, and for Team Seven, or what was left of it. With those sensitive subjects hanging in the air, she found it difficult to indulge in pointless chatter.

Instead, she schooled professionalism into her every move, her eyes calculating, empty.

And then he spoke, breaking the delicate silence that covered the air. "Shizune's busy, I take it?"

"Yes," Sakura said, not even looking him in the eye. "She was needed for a surgery."

"And you're here because you weren't busy," Kakashi stated, bending forward slightly as she measured his heartbeats.

"… I wasn't as busy," she corrected, and inwardly cringed. This conversation was so stilted and awkward it wasn't even funny. "We're all working here."

"I noticed," he said. "Are you working later?"

"Yes."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"All day?"

"Yes," she snapped, agitated. Her eyes flashed, meeting his unflinchingly. "Kakashi-sensei, why are you here?"

She was ready to throw him out the window. She knew Kakashi wasn't one to pry, but she didn't doubt he would mention something about her avoiding the entire team. She didn't want to hear Kakashi commenting about how they've all tried to contact her, to no avail. She didn't want to hear him saying she ought to talk to Naruto. And if he so much as breathed anything about Team Seven, he'd be introduced to the floor.

He looked at her innocently. "I have a check up."

"You _never_ come for checkups," she hissed at him, jabbing her finger in his chest repeatedly. "Why. Are. You. Here?"

Kakashi quieted for a moment. He didn't blink at the force of her glare, and his eye was as enigmatic as ever when he told her, "I have several messages from the Hokage."

"You think you can just—" she started, her fist tightening and drawing back before she registered his words. And then she paused, looking at him confusedly, though her shoulders didn't relax one bit. "Wait… what? W-what messages?"

Her expression betrayed nervousness, and anxious curiosity. She remembered the look Tsunade gave her when she saw her those few days ago. Sakura would've thought whatever the messages were had to do with her exhaustion and her performance, but decided that it couldn't be. Sakura was performing as well enough as the next person… And everyone was exhausted. There was nothing to it.

She wondered if this might have to do with Deidara…

"What are the messages?" she asked hopefully, pulling herself out of her thoughts.

Kakashi's eye studied her reaction carefully. Fleetingly, she wondered what it was he saw when he looked at her. "She requested that a medic, preferably you, to heal Deidara in the Terror and Interrogation compound."

The roseate nodded once, and pretended she didn't just stand up straighter.

At the thought of him, her hands flexed, and then tightened into uncertain fists. She hadn't heard any news about him, good or bad. It was a given. When she had handed his drugged and dizzy self over to the ANBU, she did realize he wouldn't be her business anymore. She knew she should've been more relieved that she had one patient less to deal with, but she'd been hoping, for reasons beyond her understanding, to see him again. Sakura swore it was curiosity, and nothing more.

Because she remembered, just how he'd been the second he woke up. Deidara was every bit as dangerous as the Bingo Books said, if not even more. She'd seen the calculating look in his (blue, blue) eyes, the dangerous threats that weren't at all empty. He was intelligent, and insane, and he wanted to kill her. He's made that clear.

She wondered why this wasn't her primary concern.

Maybe, she wasn't being rational. Maybe, it was because she'd seen him at his weakest, and twice now. Maybe, the sentimental side of her didn't want to let go of that. Didn't want to forget how broken he'd been, didn't want to forget that look in his eyes when she found him. She was so used to associating blue eyes with happiness and promises— with Naruto— that when she saw the hopeless anger, that brokenness and such willingness to die, it shook her.

And it bothered her, and she hated him for it.

Still, the feeling wouldn't abate. She wanted to see him.

"He refused to cooperate, still is refusing, actually. I don't know the specifics, but I'm aware you did warn the interrogators not to strain him. I think the message didn't go through, though," Kakashi told her, and Sakura nodded hastily. The implication that her instructions were ignored set sinking feelings in her gut. She knew what happened to criminals who didn't cooperate; they were tortured.

Kakashi continued, "So he's wounded. He lost consciousness this morning."

"From blood loss, I think," Sakura agreed immediately, listing off all the things that could've happened. "And from lack of food. I know the interrogators don't feed the S-rank criminals much… I don't think he'll last any longer without medical intervention. I mean, on top of all that, he just woke up from a two-month coma."

"I take it you'll do the job?" Kakashi asked her curiously, wondering why it was she was so eager to help the missing-nin. Sakua didn't notice, too busy in her thoughts.

Sakura was quiet for a long moment, her look indecipherable. And then, "I'll do it. I'll drop by in the next hour."

"Aren't you working?" Kakashi reminded her, his visible eye narrowing slightly.

She froze, catching her mistake too late. "I—I… you… I can—"

Kakashi cut her off, his voice still light, but undeniably distant. Sakura inwardly cringed "The next message," he said, "was to ask you if Ino Yamanaka could be trusted, should we inform her about Deidara. But now I'm wondering…" he paused. "Who it is that should be trusted anymore, if you like lying to your teammates..."

"Kakashi-sensei—" she started, her eyes pleading. "It's just…"

He looked at her evenly. "Avoiding the team, Sakura?"

Sakura's eyes started to sting again, and it was utterly humiliating that she was about to cry, yet again. "It's just… I can't— I can't talk to Naruto, okay?" she blurted, her voice tight. "What happened back there, with Naruto, after I told him that I— loved him… It's just _awful_, and humiliating, and then he called me a liar…." She ran her hand through her hair, and yanked at the ends. "And then with Sasuke— he tried to kill me and I'm just— I'm just so…" _weak, _she wanted to say, but wouldn't leave her lips. Letting the words come out was a struggle, and they were barely coherent as it was. She wasn't the closest to Kakashi, and he wasn't the best person to offer comfort, but who else did she have? She's pushed away everyone else.

"Since when do you run away?" he asked her softly. He was calm, and he wasn't accusing her anymore, and she appreciated it.

"I'm not running," she told him shakily, lowering her head in denial. "I'm just… hiding for a while."

Kakashi stood up, and pocketed his hands again. "Well, every hiding place gets snuffed out with time. Better come out on your own rather than be caught, I think." He pressed a folded piece of paper in her hand, and then headed towards the door.

She smiled at his back gratefully. Just as his hand rested on the doorknob, she said, "Kakashi-sensei… thank you... And you can trust Ino. She's a good friend."

He paused in acknowledgment, and then left without another word. She heard the door click closed softly, and she fell back onto the examination table. The weight on her shoulders was still there, but it felt a lot less heavier than it used to be. Sakura's hand rose to her cheek, and she was more than just satisfied that she didn't cry after all.

Maybe, she was getting a little stronger.

With a pleased smile, she unfolded the paper in her other hand, holding it up to eye level.

It was a note, written in a familiar, messy and near-illegible scrawl. Naruto's.

Her smile faded.

The note read:

_We miss you._

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><p>AN: Sorry for the late update. :( The past weeks have been busy. Anyway, next chapter, some Dei/Saku interaction! :D

Reviews=Awesomeness=Happiness=Inspiration=Updates.

So review, please.


	6. Glaikery

Title: Armageddon

Summary: They had cast aside all their grudges and bitter spite, but their reasons were a selfish thing. They were told to save the world. They were about to rip it to pieces. Semi-AU.

Type: Ongoing.

Note(s): Certain things will deviate from the canon chapter 363, but events after chapter 481 will be altered completely.

Warning(s): Just the usual. Language, death, torture, lame battle scenes, suicidal thoughts… yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognized terms or characters.

A/N: Holy crap, it's been ages since I updated. D: *dodges rotten tomatoes* Sorry guys, been trying to get used to college and it took up pretty much half my life but yay I'm writing again! Happy holidays everyone!

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><p><strong>Hell is truth seen too late.<br>TRYON EDWARDS**

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><p><strong>6<strong>

They gave her two hours. Two hours to force skin to stitch and regenerate, two hours to reattach bones and ligaments— to mend whatever it was they broke in him. Two hours until they make time to ruin whatever she fixed and break him again. Sakura knew it would happen. She knew his— Deidara's— type. He was the kind that didn't break easily.

She didn't count on him to prove her wrong, though.

Her resolve threatened to crack even her before she closed the door. Her footsteps echoed in the room, and she stopped as soon as she heard his shallow breathing. His shoulders didn't move much, not that she could see much of his state under the heavy canvas of that straitjacket— which she noted bitterly, was strained against his arms and chest, as if the ANBU made it a point to bring him optimal discomfort.

She bit her lip, eyes dulling. She closed the gap between them, taking care that her steps were soundless now. She was stalling, she knew, but her mind was racing— which was stupid. She had two hours, less now, to do her job. To fix him. All it'd take was for her to call chakra to her hands and it'd be thoughtless. She'd done it so many times it was instinct. She could heal him easy.

Sakura raised her hand. It was pale, and shook, but she could see each callus, each scar.

She cringed.

"Stop thinking," she whispered to herself.

— but not quietly enough. Deidara jerked, tensed, and his head turned quickly. Blindfolded or not, she felt his eyes burning right into hers. And then, as if finally gaining some sense he sneered, "I didn't know they let little pink princesses in here."

"So glad you're happy to see me," she said, somehow managing to sound sarcastic, distant and cool all at once. She stopped in front of him finally. "I'm here to—"

"Don't care, yeah. Just leave already," he drawled. If he had use of his arms, she imagined him crossing them in challenge. As it was, the slight lift of his chin was plenty telling. He didn't really expect her to leave just yet, he just wanted to rile her up enough until she did.

She was tired, and she was feeling something she wasn't quite able to identify at seeing him look so— weak, but no way was she going to fall for that. She'd mend him, heal him. He didn't look right, with his head lolling forward and his hair matted with dirt and grease and blood. So maybe he was an evil bastard, and yeah, she knew he was Akatsuki, but—

She stopped. But what?

_Stop thinking._

"Nothing to say to that?" Deidara mused into the stagnant air. "Heh. And here I thought you were all talk."

"I'm here to heal you," she told him. It was a reminder to herself as well.

"Knew you Konoha-nins were too self-righteous to let the bad guy rot happily," Deidara said, baring his teeth in a twisted parody of a smile. "Get too sick by blood and guts to just let me die."

"Do you want to die that badly?" Sakura murmured, her hand glowing green. Hearing the low hum of her chakra, his head tilted towards it unconsciously.

"Why not, yeah?" Deidara said. "I told you. I've got nothing left to lose."

"What about what you could gain?" Sakura asked softly. Her hand hovered over his brow. He went very, very still as she mended the shallow cuts and healed the bruises there. Easy. Thoughtless. "All you need to do is cooperate to gain some freedom."

He turned his head away, stopping the chakra flow in her hand. "You think I care about being _free_? That's the lamest shit I've ever heard."

Eyes narrowing, she asked, "So you _want_ to die?"

"Why not, yeah."

"You're not answering my question."

"Well, I didn't know this was an interrogation too," he sneered. "What, do I have to spell it out for you? When you've got nothing left to live for, and the world has nothing left to offer, why the hell should you live anyway, yeah? But, you, you had to come along and bring a whole new brand of hell to my doorstep, the kind of hell where I can't even do so much as scratch my fucking nose because I'm stuck like this. And I didn't have to be! I could've bled out and died and terrorized hell but you _had _to come along. You Konoha-nins are pathetic. You have to be goddamn saints, goddamn self-righteous heroes all the time. It's _weak. _It makes me sick!"

His words were an explosive rush, and they burned her ears. His shoulders shook raggedly with each breath, tired. The inferno of accusations and rush of emotions took their toll on him. Sakura's jaw shook for an entirely different reason. It was set too tight, her teeth grating against each other as she fought against letting rage bubble over.

He wasn't supposed to get under her skin.

"You keep going on about all that," she spat, her temper turning so brittle it snapped under the rush of blood in her ears. "You think I care? You think spewing about how much you hate us is going to make any difference to your situation? Here's a little newsflash: _it doesn't._ Nothing you say changes anything. You're a prisoner, you're stuck here. And _you're_ the one who's weak now, and you just _hate_ it, don't you? You hate that you can't do a damn thing about it. That's why you're scrambling for a little sense of power over anyone— over me. So you think you can even hurt me? Well, think again. It's not working. Words are just words."

Deidara laughed harshly. "You really think so, yeah? 'Cause you're not doing a good job in convincing me." He pushed himself upright, somehow managing to look dangerous— even blinded and bound and weak as he was. She pulled back, green eyes wild. She felt like an animal cornered, ready to retaliate if he pushed her even more.

"You're shaking," Deidara mused, a smirk tugging at his lips, promising malicious intent. She froze suddenly, what little color she had, draining from her face. There was _no _way he could see her. But then again, he seemed to know just how well he was invading the walls she built about herself.

This wasn't fair. He was bound and blinded and drained of chakra— she was supposed to have the upper hand. Or was she just that weak?

"No," she said aloud. It tasted like denial.

"Words are just words, hmm?," Deidara mocked her, that grin stretching from ear to ear. But he seemed to forget to address her, instead enjoying the flood of whatever it was that stirred in him. He let himself be carried with it, and found a thrill in it. He spoke with a passion she'd never heard before. "No. Words bring promise. They can affect you, hurt you, bring about so powerful an impact it hits you and you turn into a ticking time-bomb. Words can force out just about as much as emotion as physical blows do. It collides with reason, and all thought goes out the window. You're left with nothing but to feel— you _explode _with feeling." He paused, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. "What are you feeling now, Princess?"

She didn't answer.

"Rage," he whispered, cooed, even. "Hurt, maybe? Weakness?—"

She saw red.

"_Enough!" _

He threw his head back and laughed, delighted. He'd proven himself right. He proved he won. Sakura trembled with outright fury. She grabbed his chin roughly and held him still. "You're one to talk about weakness. Take a good look at your situation. You're the one being held captive, and you're the one moaning and whining about how much you want to die. Not me. What does that say about us Konoha-nins now?"

"You got lucky," he said scathingly, still managing to keep that grin on his face. "All you did was haul my ass here and you kept me under for months before you Konoha-nins drugged me and keep me locked up here, bound and blinded me and slapped a chakra sealing collar around my neck. And you do it because I'm dangerous. Because you know I can rip your throat out with my bare hands if I fucking wanted to and it wouldn't be a problem. So you know why you're still alive? Luck. Fucking luck."

"I could say the same for you," she retorted, eyes blazing. _Calm down, _she told herself. This is getting nowhere.

His grin fell. Deidara growled, struggling under the restraints. "Damn right. It's bad luck you ever found me. I was supposed to go out in an explosion, an explosion so massive that it'd hit you like a physical blow. It was supposed to capture a moment in forever and burn into a memory that no one would ever forget."

"Y—you." She stopped, and took a deep breath to smother the embers of that anger she felt. And then, she tried again. "You caused that explosion."

"No kidding," he said. "It wasn't like it could've been that Uchiha bastard— no appreciation for art—"

He was fighting against an Uchiha. Sakura's brain whirred into action. Could it be—? "You were fighting Sasuke."

"Yeah. Was just about a bastard as his brother," Deidara said spitefully. "Thinks his red eyeballs can outdo anything, but I proved him wrong. Hell yes, I proved them both wrong. Art—" he stopped, and seemed to deflate somehow. His voice turned cool, no longer angry— but it seemed to have lost that spark of conviction she'd heard earlier. It sounded empty, felt even emptier.

Deidara swallowed, scowled. Then, he turned his head away. He could've been miles away in his train of thought. "Doesn't matter now. They're both dead. No more red-eyes."

Hated the Uchihas and the Sharingan. She filed the information in her head and scrutinized Deidara. His cheeks had a red flush that had nothing to do with his earlier tirade— his skin was coated with cold sweat and there was a new red stain on that canvas jacket that wasn't there before. Wherever he was injured, it was still bleeding. And if the way his breath still hitched was any indication, she really needed to fix it, soon.

She'd need to remove the straitjacket.

"Nothing to say to that?" Deidara jibed. "Feeling sad and sorry for your Konoha missing-nins' deaths?"

She bit her lip, a plan pinning itself onto the forefront of her thoughts. Maybe she could still get the upper hand, and maybe, just maybe, she could have him cooperate yet. "Sasuke's still alive."

He stiffened. Sakura fumbled with the locks and sleeves of the jacket. Deidara's head snapped upwards and his face scrunched in concentration. She had the impression he was trying to force his vision to see through the microscopic holes in the fabric. "What're you—"

"I need to remove the jacket to heal you," Sakura said clinically.

Deidara's expression didn't change for a long moment.

Sakura cleared her throat. "You will be able to move, however minimally, considering that you're most likely suffering from broken ribs and I'll need to heal those before my time here runs out and the guards come to escort me out— which is soon."

There. He wouldn't pull anything too drastic on her now, knowing someone would come for her.

She loosened the jacket slowly. Apart from his head, Deidara had yet to move, his unseeing gaze still on her. He seemed to know exactly where she moved, forward, left, right, if she stood or sat— it was unnerving, but she told herself to be professional. Never mind that their argument earlier was anything but.

The jacket was off. She was ready when his hand shot out to grab at her shirt, and caught his wrist halfway. His other hand yanked the blindfold off, and a split second later cobalt blue eyes burned into hers. They sparked with rage, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of hope that he had a new purpose to grab hold onto. She wasn't sure what to make of it, wasn't sure if she was supposed to.

He yanked his hand back, stood. He stumbled unsteadily at the sensation of finally being able to walk towards her. Sakura lifted her chin as if undaunted, though whether she truly was or not, she wasn't sure either. All she knew was that suddenly, at his full height and half hidden in shadow, he looked more intimidating. His eyes glowed, and she was caught. It felt like a trap. Maybe, it was.

She was so used to associating blue eyes with happiness and promises— with Naruto.

Deidara's eyes definitely held promise, but there was nothing warm in them. It was unmistakable.

"What do you mean that Bastard Uchiha's still alive?" he barked. The distance between them was sucked out and she felt suspended on a high wire. One false move could mean her fall.

What did Deidara care about? Dying? Explosions? No, he mentioned something about art.

"I don't think Sasuke was ever hit by your jutsu," she said slowly, and then inspiration struck her as an odd memory made itself important. "I— I think I remember seeing some burnt matter in the clearing. It didn't look human so I dismissed it, but I think it was a snake. A huge snake. I think it might've protected Sasuke from the impact."

And maybe it protected Deidara too. There was no way any normal human could've survived that blast otherwise.

He seemed to have read her thoughts exactly, because his face twisted, and he looked even angrier. He stalked toward the door, but she shoved him back, hard enough that he visibly cringed, hard enough that she remembered he was injured. She flitted to his side, hands glowing green with healing chakra. "Calm down," she told him in a hiss. "If the guards even sense you near the door they'd shoot you down."

"That Uchiha—" Deidara said scathingly, seeming to have a loss for words. "All this time, all this time I wasted feeling like I've wasted my entire life, hating the fuck out of everything— blaming _you… _But it was that little Red Eyes' fault this happened. Him and his army of cheats— like his egoistic, prideful brother, cheating his way out of everything. Ruining anything worthwhile because they're tasteless monsters with no appreciation for beauty. My jutsu, my _masterpiece_ was ruined, not because I failed, but because of that stupid snake, because of that bastard_ Sasuke Uchiha."_

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><p>"… He was just— so angry. And he wasn't doing anything, just… raging—but the ANBU came in anyway and... had him sedated," Sakura concluded, bowing her head. She cringed inwardly. Telling Tsunade-shishou what happened in Deidara's cell was a lot different than experiencing first hand. And it didn't matter how she told it, it sounded a lot like the truth. She hadn't been professional, she'd manhandled him, had removed his restraints without permission, divulged information to an S-class prisoner for the sake of her pride and a niggling, fleeting hope that he might even consider cooperating now.<p>

Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

The Godaime Hokage was pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked like she was suffering from a migraine, and still buried herself deep in thought anyway. The woman sat behind her desk, swamped with paperwork and no sake bottle in sight. Sakura swallowed, counting each passing second in her head that her mentor was silent.

"Shishou?" she pleaded, albeit hesitantly.

Tsunade forced a smile on her face. "So he has a personal vendetta against the Uchiha, huh?"

"Um, yes," Sakura said, blinking back her surprise. But maybe shishou was biding her time. It was foolish, naive to even think that her actions would go unpunished. "He said something about how they were cheats and had no appreciation for art. And then he said something about how that explosion, shishou, it was his— masterpiece." She recalled suddenly, how he was partnered with Sasori, and how they were casually bantering about art in that cave… Sakura had always known that Deidara dealt with explosives, but the realization that he was some kind of artist too—

"He made that explosion," Sakura told her. "He wanted to kill Sasuke and take himself with it— but I think he was too close within Sasuke's range, so the impact of the blast was diminished somehow… Deidara made that jutsu so he could die with it. He would've been torn to bits, he _was _torn to bits. Burnt flesh and blood and it was just so, so awful. He should've died, shishou. But he didn't— and…"

She stopped, frowning as she looked up, met her mentor's eyes in question. "It's wrong, shishou. Why would anyone want to hurt themselves like that?"

She remembered Sasori very well. He was the kind of monster that haunted her nightmares. He'd turned himself into a puppet, stripping himself of humanity, and willingly. He was like Orichimaru, like Sasuke, who'd turn themselves into shells because it was supposed to mean that they were more powerful. If Deidara was anything like them… She shook her head. No, that wasn't the case, was it?

Deidara seemed just as human as she was, if not a little insane.

"Go home, Sakura," Tsunade said softly. "You look like you need some rest."

"I— the hospital," Sakura started.

"It can run without you for one night, Sakura," the older woman said, dryly. She shoved a few stacks of papers aside and sorted through them. "In fact, from the reports I've received, you've been working there nonstop for almost a month now. Pulling double shifts? Sometimes, even the night shifts?"

"I get called to the hospital a lot," Sakura said, crossing her arms defensively. "It's understaffed— especially now that so many people are getting hurt… Is it so bad that I want to be there to help?"

"At your own expense?" Tsunade asked her. "Yes. What did I tell you? A medic who's dead on her feet—"

"—is of no use to anyone. I _know," _Sakura stressed. "But I'm not dead yet. I'm still useful, see? I can— I can still help—"

"Enough. Have you taken a good look at yourself, Sakura?" Tsunade snapped, patience wearing thin.

"I look fine!"

"You look weak,_" _Tsunade corrected, tone uncompromising. Sakura visibly cringed this time. Her shoulders slumped, and if she weren't standing she thought she would've curled in on herself. No, no she wasn't weak. She didn't spend seconds and minutes and hours and ohso much time to be so weak!

"No," Sakura whispered. Her voice was cracked, her throat, asphyxiated.

It was bad enough that Deidara sensed it from her somehow. It was worse that her mentor, one of the very people she fought so hard to impress saw it so plainly.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Sakura? Visible signs point to malnourishment, chakra burnout. Kami-sama knows what else you did to yourself," Tsunade said. "I'm pulling you off hospital duty—"

Her heart plummeted to her feet.

"What! No—"

Her eyes began to sting in the most humiliating, yet familiar way.

"Yes," Tsunade said. "You're still to heal Deidara, but don't expect any other mission for at least a week."

"Shishou!"

"For goodness sake, Sakura, this isn't punishment," Tsunade snapped. Sakura wanted to argue otherwise. Yes, this was some kind of punishment. It left her raw, and her skin prickled so acutely with the urge to bolt so she could lose it. Tsunade's voice was strong in Sakura's ears. "So get a hold of yourself. You look like death warmed over. You need to get some rest for a few days, or how the hell are you supposed to help when the war hits us?"

Sakura placed her medic-nin's badge on Tsunade's desk, grated it across the surface to make her feelings clear. She kept her gaze strong.

Tsunade seemed not to care. "Stop it," she said.

They stared each other down, neither willing to relent. Behind Sakura's green eyes was a whirlpool of emotions, fogging her thoughts. She didn't care to sort them out. The most prominent were betrayal and hurt, because damn it, she wasn't weak so why was she still being treated like this?

"Fine, Hokage-sama," Sakura said, grudgingly, changing her mode of address.

Tsunade's jaw clenched shut. She breathed out slowly, and warned, "You forget your place, Sakura." But there was no real intent. Tsunade sighed again, and seemed to have aged somehow. She met Sakura's eyes again, a softer in them she could've almost thought was a resigned sort of pleading. "Go see your teammates, Sakura. After all Naruto's been through, you owe him that much."

Sakura licked her lips, her throat dry. It was hard to believe that today had yet to end. So much had happened, what with Kakashi appearing at the hospital, Naruto's note, Deidara, and now _this. _All her bravery, rage and fight seemed to dwindle down to nothing. She felt drained. She tore her eyes away and turned to leave. If she had to stay another moment, she'd physically ache, because the urge to cry was slowly overwhelming her. She needed to escape, collapse or scream or cry and then fix herself.

Picking up the pieces got easier each time, never mind the pieces never really fit right anymore.

As she reached the door, Tsunade stopped her with a question. "Did you manage to finish healing him?"

She was talking about Deidara, of course. Sakura tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "No."

"Good."

Her head snapped up. "Hokage-sama?"

"I think your telling him that Uchiha Sasuke is alive might help us yet," Tsunade said. And Sakura was curious about the tone of voice she was using, but pride kept her from turning to face the older woman. It was the only show of defiance she could afford. She knew it was a blatant sign of disrespect to the Hokage. Tsunade didn't comment, and somehow, that made it all the more worse.

But Sakura couldn't find it in herself to care anymore. Not today. Two people called her weak today.

It hurt.

"Come to the Interrogation Compound tomorrow. I think we have a proposition he might not refuse."

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

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><p>AN: Reviews, pleeeeeeease? :D


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